


Musings on a Birthday

by crazylittleelf



Category: Fringe
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-24
Updated: 2008-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylittleelf/pseuds/crazylittleelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter contemplates Olivia's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Musings on a Birthday

There're bubbles all over the floor and he's singing, splashing around like an otter.  “Peter!  I remembered which toothbrush was mine.”

  
“That's great, Walter.  Did you put the groceries away?”

  
“Groceries?”

  
“Right.”  Too much to expect.  Hope he's not lying about the toothbrush.

Out to the kitchen, such as it is.  Damn hotel room shrinks everyday.  Bet Walter has a theory on how that could happen.  Dammit!  “Walter, put the milk away when you're finished with it!”

  
“Oh, oh... yes.”  Muffled by the walls, by all the damn bubbles.

  
Out since breakfast.  My fault.  _Always is._  Should know by now to check each room before we leave.  White swirls over the grey of the sink, down and away, not like we can't get more.  Bread and chips and sandwich meat in their place.  Beer in it's place, cold against my hand, lean against the counter and try to figure out what the hell just happened.  _Too subtle for you?_

Flirting with me.  God, her smile.  Was she flirting?  Stopped whatever it was awfully suddenly to run away.  Well, she ran a little, backed off, nervous.  _Frightened_.  So I stick my stupid self in her space, close enough to feel the heat from her face, brilliant.  I'm such a douche.  I should call her just to see if she got home ok.  Ask if she's alright after today...

Idiot.  She really wants you to call her in the middle of the night on her birthday.  She'll love it.  Ow.  I think I sprained  my eye rolling it.  Can that happen?  Sure.  Well, it would be a pulled muscle instead of a sprain.  I could call in sick.  “Yeah, just a pulled eye muscle.  Nothing to worry about.”  
_Tell her what else you've been pulling..._  
Shit!  Get out of my head.  I'm not...  
_...lying to yourself, are you Peter?_

Christ, I really am as nuts as Walter.  That's what I have to look forward to, isn't it?  He's happier though.  Nuts, but happier.  Sometimes he seems almost all there.  Was he like that before?  No.  Don't remember that.  _Don't remember much, apparently._  How the fuck did Nina know Walter?  Does he remember?  Wouldn't tell me even if he did.  Start babbling about pigeons or papaya instead.  Should I tell her?  Does it matter?  Was I so fucking obvious?  Am I that dumb?  Nina's going to have me decimate some third-world country or kill someone or go to France.

Worth it.  She needed it.  

“Walter.  Out of the tub.  Time for bed.”


End file.
